


you gave it all you got, and all you got is not a lot

by r1ker



Category: Margin Call (2011)
Genre: M/M, come suffer with me, oh holy shit there was a tag for them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 03:53:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5728648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r1ker/pseuds/r1ker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>will instead of jared to tell seth this is not the end, not just yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you gave it all you got, and all you got is not a lot

**Author's Note:**

> margin call twitter squad led me on this journey
> 
> took my liberties with the scene between jared and seth in the bathroom. not entirely what happened but to my gay heart that was all it wanted so here we go
> 
> title snagged from django django's default

Seth almost hits a mad dash on his way to the bathroom. He feels like he’s boiling from the inside out, eyes burning, head racing as he replays over and over Will’s words to him not five minutes earlier.

 

He starts packing it all up. He picks where his belongings will go when being without a job will cause him to move (no way in hell would he stay in the high-rise he’s in now when he’s working on an unemployment check) – his mother’s always coveted that smoking chair he’s got in his office, she’ll be getting that for sure; his father, the fishing lures and limited edition Coke bottles Seth knows won’t fit in the shoebox of an apartment he’ll have to get once he’s broke and out of work…

 

The door to the bathroom opens outside quietly, pulled shut just as gently. Seth has to bite back a groan at the sound of a second person now in the room. He wipes feebly at his eyes, yanking off a few more strips of toilet paper to soak up the tears still left on his face. There’s not a lot left on his face but a few threaten to fall, gathering near the waterlines of his eyes and burning hot.

 

The man in the bathroom clears his throat, shuffles his feet against the tile floor in an effort to change his stance to something kinder, more personal. “Seth?” Oh Christ, it’s Will. He doesn’t sound anything like his usual old self, no snideness lingering beneath his words, no room for arguing should he find Seth in a state that’s less than savory. Seth lets out a shaky breath and stands up from his seat of the closed toilet. He unlocks the stall and steps out, one of his hands still rubbing at his itchy eye.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbles as if he’s at any fault. He really isn’t, no one around here would blame a newbie for the stocks going under the way they did, but he still feels like it’s his fault. He wasn’t able to perform up to snuff to stay around and help clean up the mess, using the knowledge and expertise that, while limited, he feels would be useful.

 

The look Will gives him isn’t pitying at all. It’s understanding, seeing quickly what the problem is and working silently to resolve it through friendly contact that hopefully won’t end up being perceived as patronizing.

 

Will walks up to him and puts his hands on Seth’s shoulders in that consoling way they’ve seen Sam and John do so many times. Instead one of his hands moves higher, just below Seth’s jaw where it hurts from swallowing in fear as many times as he has this morning, the thumb stroking absentmindedly. He regards Seth with a sad sort of glance, something disappointed hiding behind his features, and Seth responds by letting his head hang down.

 

“I wanted this so bad,” he confesses through his teeth gritting hard, hot tears rising in his eyes yet again, and part of him rocks forward with a sob. Will feels it, moves in response to let those hands become both arms around Seth’s shoulders. Seth tries not to let his face fall too close to Will’s neck like his brain wants him so desperately to give into. He can’t let this grow into anything other than two friends, coworkers, whatever try and console one another.

 

He wants to let it grow, but this place seems to kill anything that wants to thrive and live under less than admirable circumstances. That’s something he’s come to terms with since he realized Will was a lot more to him than just a mentor, someone to eat the other half of the pizza he found himself ordering while alone on more than one Friday night.

 

_Seth remembers that all too well, Will showing up at his doorstep one night complaining about boredom that no one else but Seth could resolve just with his presence. They had ordered pizza almost on reflex, as much as they felt they could eat given the late hour of the night, and split it silently to the sound of one of the Star Wars prequels droning on. So simple and no frills made it stick around in Seth’s mind, resurfacing now as the person who had laughed at Jar Jar Binks’ stupidity stands before him serving as an all-too-appropriate shoulder to cry on._

 

They became this entirely on accident. Seth didn’t want to make connections so early for just this reason, leaving before it was his time to probably retire from the trading game altogether. Now it’s reality, playing out before him though it’s not time yet, it’s not fucking time. Next thing he knows that firm that wanted him won’t be calling tomorrow, next week, or hell, maybe even next month if he doesn’t jump back out there and stick his neck out hoping someone puts a loafer to it to keep him in their sights.

 

“I know, I know you did,” Will mumbles with his hand now on the back of Seth’s neck, fingertips catching on the wispy curls at the nape. The next thing to leave him is an exhale, long and just as tired as Seth’s feeling right now, that travels just past Seth’s ear, makes him shiver as a consequence. Seth gives in and puts his arms around Will’s waist, makes their grieving stances a full-blown embrace now. “Don’t take it as a reflection of your character, yeah?”

 

Seth nods while everything in his body tells him otherwise. He knows that he’d be kept around if he did things differently, started studying this art earlier to garner favor and interest in the underground that is Wall Street, but he can’t change that now. There are tons of scenarios passing through his head now, what if he had just introduced himself to that one John Q. Public who could come in now to save him, mention just how excellent and smart he is?

 

No fucking dice. He’s standing here in this bathroom at eleven in the morning crying into the collar of one of his colleagues, acting like what he perceives in his mind to be a blubbering asshole that got the shit end of the sticks trading seemed to give to anyone who may or may not have asked for them. But he can’t stop; he can’t stop thinking of just how bad this got and so quick, too.

 

Things move so quickly when you’re living high and fast. He’d thought it would have been the opposite; he’d have all the time in the world to move up and get exactly what he wanted out of this gig. Instead he weeps for what wasn’t when others would take it as a light hit and go about their business as usual. He had such high hopes, high enough to not be reachable by anything other than a job here trading.

 

“I don’t know what to do now,” he confesses with a fair deal of truth behind the words. He can’t think of anywhere that will take him, so shamed and sullied by what this firm’s had to do for damage control in firing people and selling stocks for far beneath original price. He reverts back to his old standby for when he was in college and wanted an easy way out of something tough much like this. “I want to go home.”

 

Will sighs again and holds him a little tighter like that won’t be possible if he’s got anything to say about it. Now his hands are resting at different parts of Seth, his lower back and his chest where he’s shaking. He tries to will the nervous tremor away, get rid of it for it has no place in someone so promising and full of hope as Seth.

 

“You are young,” Will proffers to his friend. Being in his mid-twenties is a benefit Will can’t say he has, being fifteen years older than Seth, who could just as easily start at a smaller firm lacking in staff and work up pretty damn fast. “You aren’t going to be ruined by not sticking around at this place. Many start lower than you did and recover just fine. Someone would be a fucking fool not to see you and see promise despite the shitstorm Sam’s having to wrangle in there.”

 

Seth knows, knows he’s right and in the right mindset for something like this. Almost as if he’s speaking from experience, Seth starts to figure out after a few moments spent silently contemplating. Will takes note and pulls Seth back from him, pulls his face to his hands to hold him steady for just a second, so he can finish what he’s got to say. “You are very smart, and you will do this. If not for your career, for yourself.”

 

Starting to all make sense now to his hazy mind, Seth nods. The cloud cover starts to thin out a little and a future spent working in the top tier of another firm, a calmer firm, an easier one too, starts to appear before him. He accepts it as something he can’t escape – he’s got to work, and this craft seems to suit him with how receptive he’s started to get to the art of trading financials like they’re nothing – and swallows the lump that’s hung in his throat.

 

Now Will’s regarding him differently, not so much as a hysterical man whose career was teetering over the edge if he didn’t pull himself together quickly but now as an interesting sort of character. When Seth’s eyes start to stray from his, contemplating something not visible that seems to hang just past Will’s arm on the ground below them, he pulls Seth’s forehead to his own. Seth narrows his eyes to focus on Will’s features, more importantly his gaze as it switches gears to something softer.

 

He kisses Seth once, his forehead moving back to let his lips press where it once was, then again just below the slope of his cheekbone for good measure. Seth all but leans into his ministrations, taking pleasure in the way this has changed direction. He reciprocates confidently when Will presses his mouth to his, taking Seth’s chin in his hand to lessen the severe angle they’ve had to take on due to their subtle but apparent height difference. Seth breathes out into Will’s mouth, the way he’s able to take him down from soaring heights to the stability of earth with just this simple gesture.

 

Seth is the one to pull back after a couple of seconds that went by as slow as minutes, hours even. He likes the way Will’s eyes are glassy now, light from the fluorescents overhead bouncing off the clear blue encompassing them. He snickers when Will holds himself like that wasn’t enough for his liking, delving in for another when Seth starts to wonder again about something he won’t fix just now.


End file.
